When to quit, when not to

One Friday night a couple of weeks ago, Random Girl read through Allen Carr’s, The Easy Way to Stop Smoking, in one sitting and just like that, launched herself back into the land of the non-smoker, for good! I wasn’t even in a place where I thought, “I have to quit”. It was more of a case of hearing of the book and thinking, “Let’s see if this works”. What do you know? It did!

I always thought, "Yes, one day I’ll be a non-smoker again, but I’m enjoying this today and I’ll see how I feel tomorrow." While never a particularly heavy smoker, I still struggled to let go of the ‘luxury’ of that one cigarette which would relax or calm or stimulate blah blah etc etc etc. Mr Carr reinforces the fact that cigarettes do not actually do any of these things for us. In real terms, they have a purpose tantamount to chewing on a piece of newspaper, and an effect even less appealing. He says it is this misconception that smoking provides us with something we need - be it physical or psychological – that keeps smokers smoking, irrespective of its entirely bad aspects. So instead of emphasising the obvious reasons why smoking is bad for you (which never stops smokers from smoking, as any smoker can tell you), the book devalues the ‘weed’ completely by debunking these misconceptions that help to perpetuate the smoker’s impulse to continue smoking (including, I might add, the myth that quitting smoking is 'hard to do'.)

Such logic resonated with RG. Suddenly, instead of this rebellious little act, I now see smoking as a useless exercise. It’s not about smoking being 'uncool', it has just suddenly become…purposeless. These past couple weeks I've breezed through what would historically have been the ‘tests’ of my will – a period of heartache, the night out with your friends who are still smokers, the erstwhile essential pre- and post-work fag, and even just seeing smokers while walking down the street – I’ve managed to turn a surprisingly calm blind eye to it. And rather than feeling any ambivalence, I actually just feel indifference. Gone is that familiar pang of ‘oh, maybe just one’ or ‘maybe just one drag’. The emotional connection has vanished thanks to Mr Carr’s sound logic which underlines how quitting something so useless means we are not actually giving up anything at all. At the point when you’ve had your last, the goal is to know that you have not only quit, but you have just had the last cigarette you will ever have in your life. Thanks Mr Carr! Quitting smoking has been, as you say, liberating.

Meanwhile, as you may well know by now, I have spent many months working through my thoughts for the near and distant future. Life in London or life in Copenhagen? I’ve decided to set down in Denmark for a while. I’ve decided it’s time to quit London.

Reactions to my big decision have been super positive. Then again, is it even a decision that I’ve made? Here again, like smoking, life in London just doesn’t seem to make sense to me anymore. In one way, I think you could almost compare London life to being a nicotine addict. It gives you a ‘rush’ then drains you completely waiting for you to replace the rush all over again, while leaving you tired all the time. Being a non-smoker leaves me feeling I have more energy. Being in Copenhagen leaves me feeling I have more peace and balance.

Two days ago I took my guitar to a place called KMC Musik to replace a busted string. I ended up meeting the owner Harry who spoke of how he used to have eleven similar shops across Denmark, but now only has the one saying that downsizing had simplified his life in a good way. He told me that his wife had passed away three months prior and went on to explain how this turn of events had changed his perspective intensely, leaving him more relaxed about things in general.

We spoke of many things while he replaced the broken ‘A’ string and tuned my guitar. We sat together and compared different guitar models and playing styles. We talked about how much we loved the blues. He told me how he had always worked in and been around the music industry. Back in the day, he had lived in San Francisco and had actually spent time with the likes of Janis Joplin and Jimmy Hendrix ("No way!" Way!) He showed me the epic 1957 Gibson Les Paul he is selling for the bargain price of one million Danish kroner (he said he hoped no one ever buys it). He surprised me further by telling me he teaches Shindokan Goju Kai karate and that he was, in fact, a 7. Dan sensai and ordained priest of some Japanese temple…I can’t even remember all the details but it's on his website :). In the guise of this soft-spoken, 60-something spectacled man re-stringing my guitar, was an entrepreneurial monolith who could very well [gasp, dare I say it] give Chuck Norris a run for his chest hair, and who, in all likelihood, had probably re-strung the guitar of Jimi Hendrix! I was stunned. Enter RG’s new hero!

Subsequent to our lovely conversation, Harry graciously gifted me the new string, as well as a spare plectrum and a key-winder for the road, so long as I agreed to never to quit playing my guitar/learning. In fact, he encouraged me never to quit doing what makes me happy, no matter what. Truth be told, it’s always been RG’s way, but I’ll take that reminder from the likes of sensei Harry any day!

Sometimes, yes, you just have to quit and move on, other times you stay and fight the good fight. I think life is about learning how to discern between the two. There are many times I wish I had just walked away, but then I would have been the lesser for it. There are definitely times I wish I'd fought harder! It can be difficult to work out whether we really are on the right track sometimes, but I would also argue that the road of integrity is usually well-defined...it just isn’t always the easiest road to take.

The key is to ensure that you are not ‘quitting’ what is essential to you today, for the sake of some idea of tomorrow. Living today is what counts. The rest will take care of itself.

Random Girl

p.s. - Best wishes to any smokers wanting to quit...try reading that book! Thanks to A, for inspiring me.

Lifting my spirits (pun intended)

The past week and a bit has been all about cocktails. I’ve been working at the bar more than usual and have also been doing my fair share of copywriting for my peops in the approach to the Copenhagen Cocktail and Spirits 2012 bonanza that ran over Sunday and Monday. Only its second year, the show has already garnered a strong reputation and in a town this small, with a community this small, it was bound to wind up being a big shindig for the lot of us. It was...oh yes! It was! Random Girl felt more than at home amongst a collection of both new and familiar faces – my new peers, it would seem – as we criss-crossed the exhibition hall to attend masterclasses and seminars, and was especially happy to see some familiar faces from my London days. 

But what a whirlwind it has been. I’ve had to digest (and ingest!) quite a lot in terms of new flavours, new ways of combining them, and new ways to describe them. I’ve been privileged to meet (over the years, not just in Copenhagen) a number of those individuals deemed influential in this circle, but in such a wholesome and spontaneous way so as not to create some artificial, sycophantic atmosphere, but a place wherein it’s easy to share a laugh with peers and mentors alike. Imagine a room full of high-fives, hugs and, well, highballs! Looking at the many different specialty areas and specialised individuals, I am attentive to the fact that I am witnessing, and now participating in, the start of a new epoch in Copenhagen’s drinking culture. This industry is still very young here. It’s exciting as hell and at the risk of sounding smug, damn cool being a part of it all as it begins to pick up momentum! 

I have always found this creative community to be, in equal measure, inspiring and humbling (at least insofar as the London and Copenhagen sets go). Most of the people I know who work in cocktails and spirits, while incredibly hard-working, maintain an ongoing awareness that there is always more to learn, more to do. No one, even those at the top of the game, seem content to rest on their laurels. They all want to learn more, develop and expand. It keeps things pretty cosy. And if you have a genuine interest in what these people have to offer, you are welcome. For my part, while a newcomer still, I do feel I have something to contribute to all this. What’s more, I’ve got the time, opportunity and inclination to identify the best ways that I can.  

It has only made a satisfying job even more so that I am able to exercise my writing skills in addition to enjoying the more interactive aspects of the job. I have been adopted as the token English writer/editor at my work and enjoy the challenge of distilling (pun intended, yet again) my words aiming to pinpoint the character of any particular drink, for example, as I continue to develop my palate for different tastes and aromas. I have been able to share in my process (from a writing point of view) with my colleagues as much as they have shared their process. I’ve also had the benefit of interacting with a cross-section of creatives who have visited us as guests, who share a love of ‘the craft’ of cocktail-making, and the joy of cocktail drinking (of course!).

So here it is plain and simple, for any doubters: being a cocktail waitress in a renowned bar is an awesome job. It has presented me with a multitude of benefits and opportunities, not the least of which is a growing kinship with an amazing group of Copenhagen's finest. I never imagined this would become my life, or that being good at something like this would instil in me such a strong sense of personal value and that I would get such satisfaction from it. I have seen once again how little things done well, and with passion, can have great impact and I am truly uplifted by the thought. An honest endeavour still has value. A sincere commitment to others still carries weight. It’s the little things that have counted here and they really have made the difference in the bigger picture for this random girl. 

I feel I’ve waited a long time for such ideas to manifest themselves in a way that was satisfying both spirit-ually (that's the last one, I swear) and practically. Love where I am, love where I work, love who I work with, and love how this has all enriched my life. Most of all, I love that this change is one I had not imagined for myself and that suddenly - with the help of a small leap of faith from myself and a few others - time, place and opportunity are all in alignment (and probably for the first time ever!) They say we're all only one or two degrees off our true path. I'll drink to that! Skål!

Random Girl 

Writing is HARD (and other excuses...)

Ah, so THIS is winter in Copenhagen. The snow lines the bicycle paths, the canals have frozen over and my hands are cracked from the cold. Then again, winter is blasting Europe with vehemence at the moment and everyone is seeing the big freeze. I’ve biked when the snow was dumping. It left me looking like a snow-woman on wheels as the giant flakes clung to my parka. It didn’t strike me as odd to be on my bike in what would elsewhere be considered ‘you’re-on-your-bike-are-you-nuts’ kind of weather. That I didn’t think it was odd was odd in itself, but then I don’t plan to make a habit of that either.  A taxi home from work the other night made a whole lot of sense. 

Random Girl is also battling a head cold. It has floored me somewhat leaving me feeling a little forlorn and a little useless. Much like the appendix; that useless flap of skin attached to the large intestine. It just hangs there, relevant only if it becomes infected and requires surgical removal. But I am just feeling sorry for myself. Being ill and unmotivated only highlights to me how lame-o I have become with my writing. I have written, but not half of what I thought I would by now. I am Random Girl’s unwritten play/novel.  

There are many excuses lined up in my head but the only real answer is lack of focus. I have not fully committed myself to the process. I’ve allowed myself to be too distracted by the ‘new life’ I’ve built for myself here so far, though to be fair, I have drawn much more from life here than I ever could have anticipated. But a more industrious person would be documenting that more effectively than I have, I believe. I've sat down and stared at the screen until my bum cheeks were numb. I've scribbled ideas on post-its which are strewn about my table and in my handbag. I've had moments of great clarity and many other moments of anxiety, fear and despondency with regard to what I had originally envisioned would be my 'process'. A part of me still believes the whole thing will ‘kick in’ soon and I’ll one day find myself tied to my computer for three weeks, word vomiting like Kerouac did with On the Road. Three weeks of non-stop typing (and as legend has it, a lot of pea soup) and that classic was born! Maybe that’s where I’ve gone wrong thus far...not enough peas in my life. 

That is not to say I have not benefitted from the efforts I have made so far. They have in fact yielded a great deal (only not in the form of fiction – dammit!). Writing is cathartic after all. For many, it is the best form of therapy and this probably holds true for me as well. Still, for my eight months away, I have ultimately found it difficult to take myself to ‘those places’ wherein I am withdrawing from a bank of memories, some painful and others difficult to extricate from the recesses of my psyche. To revisit those places - to take myself to that emotional place – I find difficult to do in long stints. So I work in short bursts and find myself unable/unwilling to go too far into myself for too long (for fear of not being able to pull myself back out). Thus, what I do get on paper is limited. It is a painful process for me. Some will say the only thing that makes writers write is a deadline. For me, writing is not fun. It is, however, a compulsion and I cannot lie, I KNOW I will need to get this done. Eventually. I actually feel that the only way I'll find satisfaction with this process is when I find the strength to endure those 'difficult' places (or become an alcoholic?) long enough to get it all down in writing. Ah, there's the rub!

I imagine this must be so common amongst fledgling writers. Finding a rhythm, finding a discipline. I saw an interview with Philip Roth recently who has written some 30+ books. I am Random Girl’s dropped jaw. I look forward to breaking through this crippling adolescent phase in a writer’s life when the need to exorcise one’s demons or to dissect the minutiae of everyday life remains the main motivation. I long to find that place of pure creativity where ideas just come from the blue. What I write will always be a composite of real people or events, sure, but it will be good once I get to that place where it needn’t be so personal in order to be purposeful. I would like to find that level of expression, if it’s possible for me, if it exists. I wonder whether that form of creation is a purer art form or not to that which is more directly drawn from one’s life. Maybe it doesn’t matter a damn.

I suppose it’s time to get angry. Anger is a great motivator, to be sure and truth comes too readily when I’m at my most angry. I do often ask myself why I should be so compelled by this notion of speaking the truth, when so many others feel that silence is golden. Random Girl is still working on that one. Sometimes it seems that most people will opt for whatever’s easy over whatever’s true. That’s a discussion for another time perhaps. But it does make me doubt from time to time whether there is a point to any expression of truth when people seem to embrace the other so readily. It doesn’t take long for me to answer that for myself though. 

All I can do is persevere and try to find my motivation every day. I wish the best to anyone else out there who is in a similar situation. Perhaps you could forward me some pointers? 

The rest of my life here in Winter-hagen has rounded out quite nicely so far, so now I feel I must pull up my socks with this. In the meantime, I just have to try to stay warm, see out this cold… and stock up on some pea soup. 

Random Girl

Resolution or revolution?

“Are you ready for the new year?”, I asked the man at the kiosk. “Yes, I am. Can’t wait for the new year. Hope it’s better than this one.” 

I smiled and asked, “Isn’t that what we said last year?” “Yes”, he replied, “and we’ll say the same thing next year.” “Do you think even if it IS a better year that we’ll even realise it come this time next year?” “No. We’ll just say the same thing.” “And it has nothing to do with whether it was a bad year or not…” “Nope.” “It’s just the time of year isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Hmmm, isn’t that funny?” “Yes.” Smiles. “Well, have a good one anyway.” “Thanks, you too.”

Only a half hour or so before this, I was in the local laundromat (eller møntvask) contemplating my life’s cycle in the middle of the spin cycle. I considered my usual inclination for serious reflection at this time of year (as you do), and what could otherwise be described as apprehension in the approach to the big-bang celebrations due to take place. The shops are selling sparkly hats, party games and joke glasses. We are to wear sparkly hats, play party games and laugh at each other’s joke glasses, or indeed, the joke bowtie which can actually squirt water at people. Many get blinding drunk either to drown the woes of the past year, or throw abandon to the wind for the future (that is, before throwing it up in the neighbours hedge, if they are lucky).

I always like the first day of the year more than the last. It’s waking up after a good night’s sleep instead of sinking in at the end of a day’s work. The first day is about looking forward, while the last is about looking back. The calendar marks a time of shift when things change for us auto-magically…or are supposed to. We only have to look at a clock face and drink champagne and ‘poof’, the world is supposed to be different. Is this what this time of year is about? 

Imposed change is somehow easier to stomach than voluntary change. Now is the time to get a list together of all the things that we are going to commit to make happen. Resolutions. We’ve all tried to make them, meanwhile knowing that we are allowed to let that commitment slide. When the sparkly hats disappear, why then does our resolve become less resolute? This is just a small meditation on the ‘magic’ of this season and how it inspires us…even if it is only via a sparkly hat and a sparkling glass of something or other. Bear with me here, but aren’t we now just a bit too cynical about the cyclical sense of inspiration that this cycle reiterates because it’s so cyclically disappointing when the magic fades again and again? 

Today I saw an elderly woman wearing a silver puffy coat five sizes too big for her. Add to that the fact that her face/head was tiny and extremely wrinkled to the point where she resembled a dried apple wrapped in a blanket of tin foil. I wondered what she would wish for at this time of year…a puffier head? A less puffy coat? Actually, she looked pretty happy to me (and warm!). 

I suggest making a resolution to begin a revolution against the cycle. As 2011 rolls over to 2012, I am reminded that change can happen at any time of the year. On reflection, I know I made the most of 2011, for all its ups and downs. I feel I have stayed true to my commitment to pursue what I define as a happy life, and also to the task at hand as best I could. But then the whole year was about change for me, so maybe I’m just resolved to continue what I’m doing – keep growing, keep hoping, keep sharing and keep caring. Okay, and smoke a few less cigarettes. Happy now? ;)

Very best wishes to all those hoping for something better, and courage to those who decide they are going to just find something…different. For my part, I do feel that there are things I could take greater affirmative action on (more writing please), and I’m conscious of those shortfalls that have tripped me up from time to time. In truth though, I mostly just look forward to seeing how this year will expand who I am, while aiming to keep that ‘sparkle’ in my life all year round. I’m optimistic. Hope you are too.

Random Girl 

Big decisions, burning thighs and 7-Eleven

Biking home in the wee hours after a full shift on your feet can be tough. It’s pretty cold these days and that subtle, yet prolonged uphill gradient on my way home reaches its most gruelling point only at the final stages of the journey. Tour de France it is not, but battling gusty winds along the way can be a b*tch. Burning quads and hunger pangs sometimes demand a necessary pit stop at the nearest 7-Eleven (because it’s open) and indulge in the rite of passage that is the 2-croissants-for-10-kroner deal and even then, after being active and foodless for many hours, the greasy, no-added-value snack can feel more an act of desperation rather than a guilty pleasure. Like hooking up with the last single and very drunk guy in the club (another rite of passage…not that I would know anything about this!!)…one can feel rather unsexy scarfing a crumpled pastry at 5.30am, no matter how ‘freshly baked’ it is. Maybe if you were in Paris, okay, but there is little glory in frequenting the F’brg ‘sev’ at this ungodly hour. At least no one else is awake to see you do it.

Nevertheless, there is something about this routine. It’s strangely comforting and to my mind, still beats an hour of head-bobbing on the night bus in London. If I do decide to indulge on the way home, then it really does feel like a reward for myself and it’s nice to know there are a few opportunities to stop along the way home at any hour (and so at my leisure). I often take the time to peruse the selection on offer, usually opting for the chocolate croissant or, in the case of last Friday, the last wilted spandauer with its slightly dulled yellow custard centre still managing a feeble wink at me. I took it out of its misery, convinced I was actively replenishing my (by then) negative calorie count, if not easing my tired legs somehow with…pastry. Still, it’s kind of a fun thing to do and you do meet some interesting characters in passing. I’m referring in particular to the two drunk German guys who asked me (drunkenly) what typical ‘danish’ thing they should/could try. I calmly reminded them that we were in a 7-Eleven and that there was, therefore, nothing ‘typically’ Danish on offer. 

So, buns bagged (oo-er), I'm ready to roll. I get home, sneak around the flat so as not to rouse my very asleep roomie, and enjoy the wind down and quiet of the early morning. I might look like a zombie eating a pastry, but inside I’m feeling contented for my efforts and my involvement in this right of passage. I had earned the rewards of food and a good sleep. This last bit of the ritual is one hundred per cent my time and liberating. Such simple things make my life here feel increasingly rounded and right and continue to reveal new things to find value in. 

So on that note, I’ve recently been weighing the pros and cons of a longer stay in Copenhagen. I can’t deny that even beyond the idea of trying my hand at writing, I had actually been exploring a new lifestyle, somewhat removed from the ‘big city’ living I had enjoyed over my eleven odd years in London. Many of you may have picked up and moved to another city for reasons of love or work, a cause or otherwise. For my part, this exercise has been more about seeking out a new lifestyle. Moving somewhere simply because the way people lived appealed to me. It sounds like such a luxury now that I write that out, but I’ve never been one to shy away from new experiences and the idea of expanding my horizons. And while, of course, such things do require compromise in other areas, I could not imagine a life without a little risk-taking...

Much of this little project was supposed to be about writing. I will not lie - I haven’t produced as much as I would have hoped by now. But then, there is no question I have made much of my time and gathered a whole new set of stories which amount to something significant in terms of my life. I guess what I’m saying is, the point of this trip was actually addressing a bigger ‘life change’ project, rather than just a ‘writing’ project, and that if I’m honest with myself, it always was. It was just easier to focus on a smaller idea. I still want to continue writing, but while my world has rounded out nicely here for my six-and-a-half months, I feel that a settled life here could still allow me to continue to explore that process more than London life ever did. Personally, I feel I have discovered much about myself and my life in this process and would not limit the value of my efforts solely on what I’ve written (or not yet written, as is the case ;)

In deciding my future course of action, I have simply asked two questions: Do I miss London? And, if I were to go back and pick up there where I left off, how would I feel leaving my life in Copenhagen? As of today, the answers are ‘not much’ and ‘heartbroken’. And there you have it. But perhaps this decision making process is too simple or even clinical for some and you may ask, well, what does your gut tell you? It's telling me that going back to my office job could actually trigger a kind of physical pain in me (even the thought of it makes me twitchy), and that my old routines would no longer suffice to bring me true contentment. So again, there you have it. Now, it’s just about being decisive and taking action...pshaaaaw! 

It would be naïve to say that after six months I know for certain that Copenhagen is THE place for me. I am just saying that at a time when my life called for change, I found a new path that I have truly enjoyed strolling along. It’s been gentle and rolling, as well as rocky in patches, but nevertheless, I’ve enjoyed the view and encounters along the way more than I have for a long time and it has all been very organic, which is my way. I have always said, in the balance of things, change is a good way to go and overall, this one has left me more relaxed, which is a good thing indeed, and this is just the beginning.

So, as we approach the end of a very full 2011, I now find myself with some big decisions to make. For the first time in a long while, the approach to Christmas has been gradual and peaceful (and decidedly less commercial!). And for the first time in a long time, the future seems genuinely promising and exciting. Next time, I’ll see if I can come up with some good resolutions to share…and meanwhile, I will try to limit my trips to the ‘sev’ as much as possible…but oh, that ‘freshly-baked’ goodness... ;)

Random Girl

In which I land my first job in Denmark

The final move into my permanent digs was swiftly followed by a new job and a wave of new faces, energies and priorities. Life really can turn on a dime. A phone call or two, an informal interview and suddenly I’m working a Sunday night after-party and getting home and in bed at 6.30am?

I’ve been thinking about getting part-time work for a while. I was worried that having only basic Danish under my belt that I might really struggle to find something as it is the case that the vast majority of businesses here will demand a good handle of the language. It makes sense, but being a fairly tricky language to master, it can mean options are limited for relative newcomers like me.

So how happy was I to find out that a world-class cocktail bar in town was seeking a part-timer. As noted earlier, your network counts for a lot here in this small city and I found myself with accidental links to this place from a variety of angles. RG has long been a peripheral member of the ‘industry’ having nurtured solid friendships amongst its colourful membership in London. Bartenders slash mixologists extraordinaire make up a good percentage of my circle, and are unquestionably some of the hardest working people I know. They also tend to be passionate, personable, imaginative and incredibly fun. Having the opportunity to work alongside these people (as a server, not a bartender which I would need considerable training for) is part serendipity, part miracle and part epiphany.

It’s serendipitous for having skirted the industry for so many years that to finally join the ranks is somewhat appropriate. Miraculous for being the first job opportunity I stumbled across, at a time when I needed it, in an industry that interests me, in a place that is so highly regarded (and beautiful!), and for a decent pay packet. The epiphany comes when discovering in my first week just how much I enjoy working in this environment and how kind of suited to it I am! (So far so good anyway, knock on wood :)

As a result of the above, I have committed myself wholly to this opportunity. It fulfils my love of interaction, making people smile and promoting something done well. It’s been a while since I felt so happy about my job and my focus has been redirected to learning the massive amount of information required to do this job properly. Make no assumptions, there is a lot for me to learn. Along with my Danish studies, which have also intensified for my impending ‘module two’ exams, I have filled my walls with multicoloured post-its listing drink titles, their ingredients and what makes each one unique. This is not simply about a G+T or a rum and coke; it’s about what type of gin, why and what could enhance the drink for the customer. It’s about a high level of customer service tempered with warmth and sincerity over status and ego, which is a lovely (not to mention effective) approach to this type of business.

I had never considered the option in London as the relative pay vs cost of living didn’t really add up for me. The UK is renowned for its low paid service industry, which sees those I do know in the industry work incredibly long hours to get their just rewards. Here, I have found that people tend to do jobs they like, before worrying about what will simply ‘make ends meet’ - mostly because they can. It’s a general observation, but I think it (generally!) holds. Certainly, that’s a big part of what I like about life here.

In short, I love my new job, the people I get to work with, and the way the place is managed. There is a strong team ethos and smiles galore while everyone works incredibly hard, both for the customers and each other. It’s inspirational and is potentially carving a new direction for me. How lucky am I? INCREDIBLY lucky! The added bonus is that they don’t mind that my default language is English and the customers don’t seem to mind either...phew!

So here in my sixth month in Copenhagen, I’ve fallen into a job that is [gasp] compelling to me!! While still fully intending to write, I am invigorated by this new wave of creativity being injected into my life. Cocktail waitress, you say? Really? Well, I see it as a good time ambassador (baby!). It’s about the place and its ideals, which align with my own. For all that, it’s been a pleasure so far, even for its long hours and late nights. It makes me smile.

There’s no question that this affects my quality of life in Copenhagen from here on in. The topsy-turvy hours keep me on my toes, but in a good way. I’ve got a lot to do and it is really hard work, but if it means that I’m putting my energy into something I care about, then there is no debate on whether I should or should not. I love the feeling of knowing that this accidental job actually inspires me. You know what they say: do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life! I gotta say, it feels good!

Random Girl

Abundance and other sweet things

A jar of Lakrids Chocolate Coated Liquorice goes a long way. Grab the jar marked with an ‘A’. The first time I tried one, I couldn’t speak; I could only chew. Chew and wonder where the heck I’d been all this time that I’d never tasted one before. Chew and consider how many more I would absolutely need to ingest in the immediate future and how many other people I knew would need to try one as well. I bought two jars: one for me, and another for a friend who reportedly ate most of hers in one sitting. I myself opted to savour a few at a time, making them last. Share them around and watch people’s faces as they try them. It’s priceless.

A week or so later, while walking along Jægersborggade with a friend, we passed the window of ‘Karamelleriet’ where the magic of caramel making was in full flow (oh yeah!). We dove into the shop and didn’t leave for about 45 minutes while P enlightened us with all things caramelly. It was fascinating (as well as a good laugh) and provided RG with yet more to – ahem - chew over. Copenhagen being what it is, it was not too surprising to find P and I shared acquaintances, or that it is in fact his cousin who had introduced the aforementioned heavenly chocolate coated liquorice to the world, and my taste buds. I am one degree of separation from the kings of Danish confectionery. It’s cool knowing they are just part of the web of people who criss-cross this city (or country for that matter), doing what they love doing. It’s also cool knowing I’m now a part of that web and have been cordially invited back to Karamelleriet for another chat and/or more ‘sugar’. Thanks P!

Building my little community here has been wholesome and healthy. It's been a considered and patient process, rather like pruning a bonsai tree. Meanwhile, this tiny network has provided a wealth of abundance. If there is truth to any of the information on Denmark you can read elsewhere on the internet, it is that word of mouth and networks really carry weight here. Meeting the people I have met so far may have been down to luck, but then again, RG invests a lot in friendship (as opposed to just ‘contacts’). My network has been fundamental in helping me settle in, find accommodation, get involved and, most recently, source jobs that could have easily slipped passed me. While it’s been on the back of RG’s mind to start looking for part-time work, I had yet to officially hit the pavement with a pile of CVs. A call out to friends has however borne fruit, at least in the form of a few prime prospects for which I am both qualified and enthusiastic for. Watch this space. I have never been one for networking for the sake of networking, but investing in people as a lover of people can still mean a share in the abundance the collective brings. Now all I have to do is not take it for granted and rise to the challenge of making it happen, for the sake of my friends who have helped, if nothing else.

Meanwhile, RG has settled into her news digs and is diggin’ it! Whereas a month or so ago, I felt those pangs of doubt – needing reassurance that this active life-changing exercise was worthwhile – I have now refreshed my perspective, motives and incentives and subsequently, my sense of empowerment. A brief sojourn back to London reminded me of the greater world and spectrum of people my life actually incorporates. It also reminded me of why I came here in the first place. Having taken the time to regroup, I have come to recognise the value of this time on a much larger scale than I originally envisioned. I have had a lot of time to reflect on what it is I am seeking from this experience only to stumble across a cluster of other valuable conclusions about my life here and now that I wasn’t even looking for. Focusing on the present has, in many ways, resolved aspects of my past and my future. This alone has made me embrace this adventure all the more.

As of today, the detritus of the practical issues cluttering my road is now almost clear. My new home feels like home. My language classes are still expanding my horizons and also reinforcing my confidence in my ability to learn. My friendships are evolving and growing richer. My financial situation looks promising with some work prospects on the horizon. As we are heading into the darker months of the year, I am honestly amazed by the amount of energy and optimism I am carrying with me and I'm incredibly excited (yes, excited!) about the wintry road that lies ahead. Of course, my new heavy-duty, everything-proof parka also boosts my confidence...it's so warmmmm.

As an aside, for those out there who are contemplating change or doubting their ability to do so, I would highly recommend watching Tony Robbins’ recent television programme ‘Breakthrough’. I challenge anyone to watch it (sceptics included) and not be moved. Actually, I am positive the perspectives it offers will change your outlook on life completely. The whole programme reinforces how much fear hinders people from realising their potential and demonstrates how readily true change can come about if you are willing to confront the real issues head on. If you’re unsure of your lot in life, just check out the programme and see what some of the people in the programme have endured, survived and evolved from. They have all experienced some form of crisis/trauma, in its numerous permutations, and gone from losing everything, to discovering within themselves that sense of true abundance (removed from the material things), which actually makes them incredibly productive, creating further abundance. 

I'm learning that the sweetest life is waiting for all of us and that we all have it in us to design it for ourselves and live it; to wake up every morning believing in it. As such, I feel it's important to keep exploring what defines that for you individually, for what you find sets the standard for your life. That said, I hope everyone who is exploring discovers more than what they think they are looking for - surprising you like that piece of chocolate covered liquorice surprised me. Even more, I hope to catch the expression on your face when you try it.

Random Girl